A spoonful of Karma
by Macaronic-Paradox
Summary: Post 5.5...MI6 do their bit for recycling whilst Harry gets a dollop of Karma sent his way.  HR


**Set Prior Ruth's return. I wasn't going to post this but here you go. Hope you like…**

**[Ruth is in exile]..._ defiantly do not own Harry, Ruth or the Director General! :)_**

"Welcome Harry, please, take seat."

Harry steps round the lavish Oakwood chair, seating himself down, a broad desk separates the Director General (Andrew Thorpe) and himself. It isn't often he has a private audience with the DG and based on past experience this won't be a simple social call.

..."Drink?"

"Thank you." Crossing a leg, Harry leans back in his chair.

"You know, the reality of my retirement is beginning to dawn, I'd promised it to myself for so long I'd almost lost faith in it ever coming at all."

"I trust you'll find something suitable to fill your time, sir?"

He laughs and changes the subject. "Tell me Harry…" Pouring two glasses of Scotch he passes one across the table, "when was the last time you were at Century House?"

Century house was six's equivalent to Themes house. Harry's baffled by the question. "Erm, a long time ago, a year, maybe two."

"Close. Two and a half years actually."  
The DG being so up-to-date over a matter of such apparent irrelevance unsettles him."Er,right."

"Sooo, don't like mixing with our brothers over at Six ay?"

"They have Century House, we have Themes. There's little need to exchange pleasantries."

"No I guess there's not... none at all." He muses thoughtfully.

"Forgive me but, why do you ask?"

Thorpe smiles and takes a slow lingering sip of his scotch. "I guess you lose touch of day-to-day events over there?"

"What six doesn't want me to know, I won't. As for the daily runnings, well I don't care much for those." Harry's now worried, where's this going?... Does the DG want him to transfer to six?_ 'God have mercy'_

"You know, I leave this office next week... Monotonousness day-to-day domestic chores and an eternal ignorance that only retirement can bring, finally beckon." He smiles at such a simple alternative to his current lifestyle.

Harry inwardly sighs at the dreary change of topic. "You regret stepping down?"

Thorpe lets out a sharp laugh "Ha. One knows when it's time to hand over the reins to fresher blood. I'm merely grateful that I managed thus far without meeting a darker fate."

"Sir." Harry acknowledges his comment but doesn't wish to encourage his reflections any more than absolutely necessary. He's already decided this meeting will be pointless, an aging man wanting a flurry of thanks and hails of his greatness as he bowls out of the service.

Thorpe reads Harry's mind, it's what he was good at. "Don't worry Pearce I'm not going to drag you down memory lane, I'll let you read all that in my memoirs."

Heart thumping, Harry's eyes double in size and his jaw hangs agape.

Thorpe turns to face Harry with a sly grin, "Oh the look on your face... priceless!"

Harry's eyes close briefly in relief. It wasn't like the DG to joke in such a way. The idea that the DG had memoirs to publish would tear apart the civil service, turning the already sinister shadows that lurk over such matters, into blood thirsty heathens.

"Sir, I really don't think it appropriate, not in light of the recent Clive McTaggart debacle"

Thorpe raises his spare hand to quite Harry's protest and in a voice of much greater sincerity continues. "Harry it was a joke but I do confess there being an ulterior motive to today discussions, a matter of some delicacy that I wish to address prior to my departure. It's a matter that has plagued my conscious for some time but finally I'm in a position to leave it in your hands."

Images sprang to Harry's mind: dirty deals that need covering up, polices he wants backing or even silencing of certain persons… all seem like possible requests he may now be bestowed.

But it isn't a request that Harry is to receive...

"It's been what? Ten or so years we've worked together Pearce, and in that time, you seem to have been the most stubborn, arrogant, idealistic, inflexible, demanding sod of a section head I've had to manage..."

Harry raises an eyebrow, he knows without doubt, that such feeling towards him exist, but to have them aired aloud _and_ to his face by the DG of all people, rather throws him off guard.

"...but I guess it's because of that, because you're not afraid to stand up and be counted, that you're the best at what you do, and I think it a great loss to the service that it's not you who replaces me."

Harry repositions himself uncomfortably in the over sized chair, he's uneasy at receiving such commendation, "Right. Well. Erm, thank you Sir."

Thorpe returns to his muse, raising his glass and swirling the amber liquid, he stares intently through it. "How do I reward a man who's done so much for so little, who's saved my life a dozen times, if not more, who values neither wealth nor distinction as thanks?"

"I don't ask for thanks, and, if any _were_ required then rest assured your complements have more than fulfilled that obligation."

"I disagree, I think I may be able to offer you something." Thorpe leans back in his chair, his glass cradled with his right hand it rests gently on the arm of the chair, his eyes scan over Harry, his mind deep in thought. "I think you value your officers above yourself, their loyalty, their friendship, their love..."He let the word hang a moment before continuing, "_that's_what drives you._That's_ the reward you get."

Harry shrugs nonchalantly, "Perhaps." Harry had never been keen on physiological analysis.

"You haven't had much luck in that department I gather?"

"Department?" Harry questions, genuinely mystified. The DG had never been so hard to follow.

"Women Harry… You do remember what they are?" He twitches a smile.

Eyebrows arched, Harry no longer dignifies him with an answer, but is unable to prevent the flush of red that fills to his cheeks.

Thorpe settles further back into the heavily padded chair. "I appreciate It can be uncomfortable to talk of such _intimate_ matters..."

'_then why the hell do you persist! ' _Harry silently fumes.

"...and harder still to find someone to fill the emotional void created by their loss."

Harry knocks back the rest of his drink, standing to his feet he places the glass tumbler on the desk. "I'm afraid if that's all, I must respectfully bid you good luck and go, I've important matters to attend."

Thorpe scoffed at having obviously hit on a sore point. He can't help but enjoy getting this heated reaction from Harry. "Ever the romantic eh Pearce?... Affairs of the heart always bound to ruffle your feathers..."

'_I'll ruffle your bloody feathers in a minute.'_

"_..._It's why they used _her, _you know."

Harry's head darts to attention. _'He can't mean-'_ Harry grits his teeth he doesn't know if he's angry or upset as the past revisits him so painfully.

"It's been on my conscious a while, I was never happy with the arrangement but at the time my hands were tied... You were in love with Miss Evershed Harry?" Thorpe knows the answer.

Harry was thrown. "She...she was a fine officer."

Thorpe nods, "You love her still." his statement said as fact, as though Harry's shaken response confirms all he needs to know.

"How I feel is of little consequence." Harry vehemence shot back. It's at this point Thorpe knows he's got as far as he ever will in the conversation without divulging the true purpose of his calling on Harry.

"Sit back down Harry, I'll get to the point."

Harry reluctantly re-seats himself.

"We both know Ruth was framed, and I don't have to tell_ you_ she didn't die in the Themes. The service itself is an incestral place, we don't like to lose _good_ officers, much better is to recycle them. Place them out of the lime-light, where they're still be of use to us and where our foreign counterparts won't be able to poach them for information."..

Harry sits, silently listening.

.."I asked you earlier when the last time you'd visited Century houses …. For the last 2 years Ruth's been posted in a department there. Section M, a frightfully dull section I believe, monitors all imports and exports, something of that nature...I give you an opportunity... Unbeknown to her I have just had wavered the clause of her contract that stipulates she is to have no contact with you or any member section D."

Harry looks narrow eyed and aghast, completely lost for words.

"...That's not to say there won't be repercussions, if you _do_ go and see her. People will be upset_, _I won't be able in position to help there, but I've a feeling you can hold your own." Thorpe smiles with thin aged lips, he's satisfied in finally giving a gift of true worth.

"She's been working for six this whole time?" Harry, still in disbelief.

"Well the last 2 years, yes." Thorpe nods and Harry rises to his feet.

Thorpe matches the move adding, "Good luck Pearce and, thank you."

Thorpe offers his hand and Harry shakes it firmly. "You were right… about what I value."

Thorpe smiles. "Good… Now go get the bloody girl Harry."

And with that, speed in his stride Harry was out the door.

_**-X-X-X-**_

Sitting in the back of his car, engine running, James, his driver, was left bemused but knew better than to question his boss. The car hadn't moved in 10minutes, Harry needed a minute to think. It's 6pm should he go back to the grid, try to fathom the next step in what to do or should he just do it? Grab the Bull by the horns and turn up, should he try and find her now?

"James, I'm ready to go."  
"Where to sir?"

"Century House, quick as you can!"

_**-X-X-X-**_

Harry skips up the steps and brushes past security. The narrow corridors are dark and claustrophobic. His pace increases as does his heart rate as he makes his way further into the depths of the building. A stairway leads him down to the basement till he's met by a burly security guard stationed in front of a small doorway simply marked 'M'. Harry flashed his pass.

"Sorry sir that's not valid here."

"It's a level 1 pass, it's valid anywhere."

"I'm sorry I can't let you through."

Gritting his teeth, Harry isn't going to be prevented at this late stage, not when he's so close. In a hushed breath he whispers in the guard's ear. It's either something that validates his visit or something with earth shattering menace because, it has the desired effect, the now pale faced guard quickly steps aside and allows him to pass.

Opening the wood-paneled door it unveils a similar set-up to that at Themes house. Harry steps into the familiar pods and after a series of swishes he steps into the air-conditioned room. It was larger than section D, more desks but no-one's there to greet him. The 9-5 reality seems just that in this section, he sadly he concludes everyone's gone home. Harry prepares to turn, to make his exit when a distant light in the far end catches his eye. A step or two closer and the profile of a woman typing at her desk clarifies. Harry remains rooted to the ground watching her type, he's mesmerized.

_'She's been so close, this whole time she's always been so damn close.'_

Ruth smiles on hearing the approaching footsteps. Not turning around she's certain it was one of her colleagues returning after forgetting something. "I know, I know...I'll be off soon, just finishing this report so Higgins doesn't have a meltdown tomorrow."

A childlike wonder in his features, her voice is heavenly sweet to his ears and, almost trance like, he strolls closer.

With no reply Ruth wonders if she's wrong in her assumption, with a curious smile she turns her head but before she's able to realise just _how_ wrong she is, she hears his soft voice, a distant memory brought back to life.

"...I've missed you."

_**the end**_

**This was my solution to 5:5 hope you enjoyed & I'd really appreciate your reviews/comments …:-)**

_*Clive McTaggart was Harry's friend, (an ex-MI5 officer in s4e5) murdered for being naughty and writing a book on his life, revealing the secretes of the service._


End file.
